


It’s the tradition

by Irlus



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Awkward Newt, F/M, Foreign Languages, Rituals, Wedding, cute couple, cute newt being cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22144195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irlus/pseuds/Irlus
Summary: You, a witch from a totally different culture and mother tongue; he, Newt Scamander, the man that fell in love with you and decided to go on and marry you. Under your family's only condition to stick to your usual rite of marriage.
Relationships: Newt Scamander/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 64





	It’s the tradition

His sweat was glistening against the ligh as the priest continued with the ceremony. You come from a place where not only your native tongue contrasts with the soft Brittish accent, but everything from your traditions does.   
In London, for example, the habitual thing is a bride in white, a groom in black, bells ringing, reception, a feast and dance all night or all day. But this time, a dark green wool coat intricately embroidered in gold thread and coral beads smothered you both, knelt in front of a fire as two girls spinkled you with petals and fragrant waters every time the priest finished a very nasal and catchy phrase that, for Newt, seemed it has been repeated fifiy times.   
You wore a colorful gown garnished in gold and silve threads, of a vibrant red and yellow fabric and a tall crown made of natural flowers and jewels; him, wore a robe of the same fabric as your gown, with lines of gold thread and a hat that woud be even too odd for the wizard community.  
He loved you since the day he laid eyes on you, and it honestly didn’t matter the heat in front of him or the hundreds of stares and whispers about him. This day was special for you both and he was up to the challenge.

After what is appeared an eternity, the priest told you to stand up and gave you a goblet from you took at least ten sips, each one after a short “khmeregye”. The drink tasted like shit, but he managed the frown, or so he thought when he heard some people laughing.

“One last thing,” you translated as the priest spoke in your mother togue “we have to walk around the fire for three times, and the other way around it.”   
Newt nodded and began walking when you pulled his arm and told him with your eyes to stay still until he gave the signal. The priest glared at him and right when he stopped talking, you signaled him. As you passed, people around the small arena of ceremonies began chanting something similar to “ghardet gihflorvi!”

“Y/N?”  
“Yes?”  
“What are they saying?” He asked you gritting his teeth.  
“Oh well…it’s a blessing my my native tongue. It’s like, 'be prosperous’, 'be lucky’, 'be eternally blessed’, but more powerful. This blessing is only chanted in weddings.”  
Newt blushed. His innocent smile couldn’t be contained. As you walked aroud the fire you nodded to the guests, their kind words reached to your heart. Newt looked back and forth to you and the guests, he wished so bad to understand your mother tongue and hear what they were saying. You laughed.  
“They say you are now a member of the community, that you seem strong enough to be the protector of our family.” you told him with eyes to the front, “that and that the color of your hair is pretty weird.” He contained a giggle.

“Oh I almost forgot.” you whispered, “tonight you are supposed to bath ourselves in calf blood, as a request to be fertile.”

Newt shot you a shocked look.

You chuckled. “It’s a joke, just a joke!”


End file.
